


give it some time to grow

by biceps



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Competition, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Edgeplay, Fantasizing, Jealousy, Masturbation, Other, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biceps/pseuds/biceps
Summary: You and Kray make a bet. In a way, everyone wins.
Relationships: Kray Foresight/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	give it some time to grow

**Author's Note:**

> okay where are the kray hoes hiding... get out here guys!! talk at me about big stupid anger management titty man!!
> 
> i do not own promare! just really love kray foresight's huge titties.

“Something to say, Kray?”

“No, not really.”

Your eyes flick to him. His typical, good-man smile is on his lips, and his expression is unreadable. Besides appearing a little flushed, one would not think anything out of the ordinary. You mindlessly turn a page in your magazine. You could say something inflammatory, but there wasn’t much use at this point. Anything of that sort would feed his ego. 

After pretending to read the fourth paragraph for the umpteenth time, you flip another page, glancing back at Kray for a moment, giving his body a once over. 

His cock, an angry, thick red, stands obediently between his spread legs, poking a hole out of the zipper on his trousers. The ring nestled behind his cock and balls shined a cool blue, a stark contrast to the rest of his skin. Ordinarily, you would be jumping on it without a second thought, but the sight of it now was, frankly, irritating. 

What kind of man bets that he can be edged for three hours straight to get free food wherever he wants for the next month? What kind of man takes it? What kind of person were you, then, to agree to watching? A stupid, bored one, if your current mood was any indication.

You thought it would be easy. Kray normally had a hard time keeping his hands off of you when you were alone with him, so you foolishly assumed he wouldn’t last longer than an hour - funny how you forgot this guy hid his Burnish identity for thirty goddamn years. Figures. 

Two and a half hours in, and he was just as stock still as he had been for the last twenty minutes, save a general shift on his chair. You should have gotten suspicious when he agreed to your self imposed rules of ‘no touching’ and ‘no restraints’ (“you gotta do it on your own willpower, and without touching anything. not me, not yourself, not anything. got it, Foresight?” you had said with an amused grin, sure that he wouldn’t be able to last if he was stagnant. how naive you were). You shoot a special glare at the chain hanging out of his breast pocket, the watch that would signify time’s up sitting comfortably in it.

Kray tilts his head. “Is there something  _ you _ would like to say?”

That’s when you realize you are glaring one of your infamous, why-isn’t-this-going-how-i-expected-it-to glares, and you dart your attention back to your magazine. 

“You have been reading that page for almost five minutes. Would you like some help?”

“I’m looking at the pictures, ass.”

“Oh?” You seethe harder when he doesn’t make any motion to take a look; of course he wouldn’t give you a chance to try catching him cheating. “May I ask what of?”

You throw your leg up on top of the table you sat at, flashing your crotch at the man seated before you. His head angles down just a touch to meet your cunt - the first of his actions to elicit a feeling other than rage.

You lock eyes with the first image of a human you see - some guy on a political ad. No one you’d be caught dead with, but they will serve their purpose. You make a show of fluttering your lashes at the photo, sliding your hand down your neck to rest on your stomach. “Actually, there’s just the _ sexiest _ model photos here… The last few pages were full of them.”

“Ah! Very interesting. Is there a name listed?” Kray asks politely.

You attempted to imagine political ad person grasping you by your hips and rutting against you, what their mouth must feel like on yours, how their gloved hands would stroke your thighs - no, no, don’t think of Kray right now, he’d love to watch you get off while thinking of him. You crack open an eye, seeing that he doesn’t seem to have moved. His smile doesn’t look gone, but you swear you see a bead of sweat slide down his head…

“Mmn, the photographer got so many photos of their legs… so long and muscular…” 

“I’m sure they are. Are they an athlete, do you think?”

You huff. “Probably… Seems like this one is just a fashion shoot, though…” 

“Ah, it must be for sportswear... I think I might know who you’re looking at! A young man with long legs… he must be a soccer player, correct?” God, Kray, are you serious?

“Maybe… I’ll pretend to know  _ anything _ about sports to get this person inside me…” Political Ad has pulled away from a kiss in your fantasy, poking their fingers into your cunt, whispering about how good you feel in their soft, gentle voice… 

“Anything? Perhaps we should go to a game some time, then. I think I can get us some tickets for whatever you’d like to see.”

This conversation was  _ not _ helping your libido, but your drive to win pushed you a little harder. Your fingers stroked your thighs reverently and you feel the dormant ache from earlier rise in your stomach. It was easy to get turned on two hours ago - Kray giving you guided masturbation lessons in his sweet croon was fun the first four times, but then your interest waned, as it was oft to do. He isn’t bad to look at, but you can deal with the look-don’t-touch game for only so long. You were only human!

Your fantasy lover shifts their weight nervously, trying to accommodate their persistent arousal and please you at once. You bite your lip and sigh, your fingers finally pushing aside your panties to stroke eagerly at your folds. “Mm. Fuck... “

“Enough.” Kray’s voice drops to a growl in an instant. The creak of the armrests sounds under both hands, probably crushing them out of frustration. 

You glance at him from underneath your lashes. You catch a glimpse of red eyes, a single strand of thick hair flung out of place… “What? I said  _ you _ couldn’t touch me… Never said anything about touchin’  _ myself _ .”

“You are free to touch yourself, of course.” His smile is just a little sharper. “I simply do not appreciate you fantasizing about someone else.”

You sigh, slouching a little further in your seat, shooting a wistful look at your political paramour. “But it’s so  _ hard…  _ Even when you’re right here, it gets lonely with only my fingers, you know?”

“Why **_you_** \--” Kray cuts himself off with an intake of breath suddenly, chest puffed high as his chin lifts up. He holds it for just a touch, before relaxing with a quiet sigh. You eye his cock and how it bobs with the movement, heavy with promise, and try not to lick your lips. 

The serene smile returns to his features. “Doesn’t seem particularly fair to me, but so be it.”

God damn him, god damn his poker face, god damn his fucking  _ self control _ \- “Ah. I knew you’d see it my way.” You weren’t done yet.

If you had been watching, you would have caught Kray’s eyebrow twitch. 

It is evident that you will slip right out of your chair if you keep slouching, you give your cunt a parting stroke and stand briskly. Kray watches with rapt, agonized attention as you climb upon the table next to you, laying back against it and opening your legs to his blazing eyes.

You pretend to suddenly notice his gaze and coyly smile at him. “Oh, ‘scuse me, just trying to get a little more comfortable.” 

“Not a problem.” Kray huffs. You reposition your fingers onto your sopping folds, redirecting your attention to your magazine. 

You let your eyes flutter shut, your dream paramour (who was definitely not stupid tall with ridiculously broad shoulders and massive tits) kissing a line down to the junction of your thighs, their own (gloved, thick,  _ huge _ ) hands wrapped securely around your knees. A tiny gasp escapes your throat. “Ugh, they have the most pouty pair of lips… Mmm, they’d look so pretty eating me out…”

The familiar, wet sound of your fingers thrusting at a languid pace fills your head. It is joined by Kray’s sharp inhale. Then that, too, is followed by the whine of the chair’s armrests. 

Your paramour’s fantasy lips reluctantly part from your folds, positioning their thick cock between them and rutting eagerly into your hot core. Your fingers tweak your clit as they do so, your gasp louder this time for your imaginary lover (and the solid man who strangely resembled him across from you). Shit, just a bit more… You can feel your orgasm cresting low in your belly…

A pair of very thick, very big, very real hands suddenly wrap around your hips, and you yelp in surprise. They pull you so your ass hangs off the edge of the table and your heels hit a solid surface, knees bent to the ceiling. 

You rip your eyes open only to squeeze them shut again as a spike of relieved ecstasy cuts up from your cunt, a wet, hot force surrounding your folds and clit. Kray sucks at your crotch like a man starved, mechanical hand shoving your thigh aside to open you further to his searching mouth. 

He feasts upon you so furiously that you have no time to reprimand him - you instead muss his neatly slicked hair, assisting him in widening your thighs for his broad shoulders, and encourage him with pleased cries.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, sending you arching into Kray’s eager mouth. He holds you to his face long after you’ve cum, making the most obscene of sounds as he takes in your release. You finally have to shove him away from your cunt when he mercilessly sucks your too-sensitive clit - and scowl at how smugly he licks his lips.

“Fuck,” Your limbs feel weightless; they’re bound to melt right off your body, you’re sure of it. “You’re a sore fuckin’ loser, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Kray leans over you almost triumphantly. His serene face looks almost menacing in the shadow of his form - what the fuck does he have to smile about?

You ask him as such. “Yeah, you made me cum, but ya didn’t keep your bet,” You shoot him a lopsided grin. “You didn’t last three hours.”

“Oh,” Kray’s eyebrows raise high upon his forehead in a look of genuine surprise. He grasps the watch out of his pocket suddenly, giving it a cursory glance, unable to hide his smile long enough to even read the numbers. “Didn’t I?” 

He flips the watch face to you. Zero hours, zero minutes, zero seconds.

“Huh.”

Kray nods once. “I’m going to fuck you now, my dear. I trust you’ve had more than enough preparation.” 

And then he sheathes himself within you in one long, smooth stroke, effortlessly filling you like you had never been before. His flesh hand slams into the table next to your head and you catch a glimpse of the ring - he must have removed it just then - but oh, he is setting such a brutal pace, and you lose the thought like a leaf on the wind.

Kray buries his head into your neck, grunting and growling like a wild animal. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder to muffle a desperate groan when you squeeze him  _ just _ right, raking your nails down his muscular back, pressing your chest to his. 

He presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “O-oh, my sweet, I must congratulate you… It was an ingenious plan.” The mechanical arm holds your hips in place, physically dragging you on and off his cock. “If you had executed it moments earlier, you might have gotten your way. But alas… not this time, I’m afraid.”

Kray leans back to leer down at you. The appraisal he gives your frustrated, horny self stokes the flames of a second orgasm in your core, one that approaches much quicker than the last. “Kr-Kray, fuck…” 

Despite his smug demeanor, he drops an unabashed moan when your hands work into his shirt to palm at his pectorals, your thumbs stroking his nipples to full attention. “Yes? Is there s-something you need?” His flesh hand joins its twin on your other hip and his pace multiplies, the table legs creaking underneath your combined weights. 

“I’m so - Kray, I’m so so close, please -” You are not too proud to beg, especially when he fills you so completely and looms over you like a heavy stormcloud. His eyes shine with want, with finally being able to cum, and his fat fingers inch just a bit closer to your center to nudge your clit just so, angling his cock at an upward thrust -

The force of your orgasm drags him over with you, the insistent pull keeping him anchored deep within your wet heat as you both cum. You whine, arching into him and he into you, moaning and gasping into the crook of your neck. 

When Kray pulls himself out of you, it is accompanied with an excessive amount of cum. You tremble after the fact - even the air is a little too much for your sensitive nerves. Your hands trail down his arms as he leans back to a standing position and you steal a quick glance at him; he is staring unabashedly at the apex of your thighs. His mouth is open just enough so the light catches his bottom lip.

“Congrats on making it three hours,” You mumble, running a tired hand through your mussed hair. “You got any cum left in there?” 

Kray regains his composure instantly and stands tall; all business-like, as if his flaccid dick isn’t hanging out of his trousers and his shirt isn’t spread open to reveal his vast expanse of breastbone. “Ah, that would just destroy you, wouldn’t it?” He steps out of your legs and begins heading towards the bathroom, presumably for something to clean up with. “I do not think so, unfortunately.”

You stretch your liquified arms above your head and sit up, noting the light bruises already forming on your hips. “So,” You call after the gargantuan man, who appears in your doorway with wet washcloths. He knots his brow at your wry smirk. “I take it you got issues with jealousy?”

“Perhaps.” Kray replies dismissively, kneeling in front of you to wipe down your thighs. You note how he is tucked back into his pants, shirt buttoned to a respectable height, and his hair is even back into its perfect shape. “I am not sure, though. Best we have this conversation over dinner. I was thinking of the one place near the sea, the one where you said the appetizers were, ah… ‘ _ stupid _ ’ expensive?”

“Oh. Oh yeah.” The bet. Shit.

You groan in a defeated stupor. Kray’s got his good guy smile on, eyes closed pleasantly. One would assume nothing is out of the ordinary; only you would notice the patronizing twinkle in his eye as you received the dinner bill that night.


End file.
